Draco Malfoy and the Quest for Power
by Marie2180
Summary: It's Draco's first year at Hogwarts and he has been instructed to make "powerful" friends for the changing times. In addition to this, Lucius wants his son to assist in getting a certain student expelled. This is the first in a series of fanfics exploring Draco's time at Hogwarts and what makes him the character we all know and love. Draco x OC END GAME
1. The Hogwarts Express

A loud tangle of voices filled the air of King's Cross Station the morning of September 1st as muggles, witches, and wizards filled the platforms. Draco pushed his cart, looking all around him to soak everything in. It was easy to pick out the other magical folk as they pushed their textbooks, owls, and belongings along toward platform 9 ¾. The muggles didn't seem to notice as they continued to go about their normal days. He chuckled at their complete oblivion which to him seemed almost archaic. Draco's amusement was interrupted by his father's sharp voice behind him.

"Look at this trash," he commented to his wife. "I swear, I don't know why this bloody school doesn't choose a more civilized way to get these kids to the Castle each fall. I told you, Narcissa, Durmstrang would have been a much more fitting choice for our son."

Draco shut his father's arguments out as he had many times throughout the summer. He knew how it would go. Hogwarts wasn't good enough for _his_ son. _His_ son deserved the best and neither that school or it's headmaster could give that to him. Durmstrang was a much more fitting school for a Malfoy and he would be given the _best_ education.

Draco also knew his mother's response to that argument. Both she and her husband had attended Hogwarts and had turned out just fine. Plus, Durmstrang was much too far away, and she would miss her little dragon too much.

Neither parent had bothered asking Draco what he wanted. Each assumed that their son agreed with their point of view-which is what they did most of the time. If either Narcissa or Lucius would have thought to ask Draco what he wanted, they would find an opinion much different than their own. Draco had no desire to attend the Durmstrang Institute. He agreed with his father that Durmstrang would provide more suitable classmates for one such as himself. He also agreed with his mother that it was much too far away. Draco wasn't considered about the distance from his doting mother, however, as much as the distance from his best friend Theodore Nott.

As Draco approached the entrance to platform 9 ¾, he turned to see his parents still arguing about the value of Draco's education. When they realized that they had arrived, they stopped and turned to their son.

"Well, Draco, this is where we leave you. We'll see you again at Christmas. Send an owl immediately if you have any problems with _that_ school."

Draco watched as his mother rolled her eyes at her husband.

"Aren't you going to see me off?" Draco asked.

Lucius seemed rather agitated by the question.

"Son, I have places I have to be after this and I would rather not deal with the filth that we already had to encounter at Diagon Alley. You're responsible enough to see yourself onto the train and remember this year, Draco- Malfoy's make _powerful_ friends."

Draco nodded his head in understanding at his father. Lucius had already spoken to him about the possibility of the Potter boy attending Hogwarts this year. It was this boy that Lucius meant when he mentioned _powerful_ friends. _We have yet to see how his story will play out,_ his father had told him. _But a powerful wizard he will be nonetheless._

"I know, fath—"

"This year is going to be particularly important for you, son." His father interrupted. "Things will be changing within the next year or two and we need to be sure to keep our allies close and our enemies within our sights."

"Yes, sir," Draco muttered. His father had been talking about these "changing" times quite frequently lately, although he never went into more detail than that. The only other clues that things were different were the revolving door of "allies" coming and goes from the Malfoy Manor. Lucius had recruited several of his old acquaintances to search for objects of "great importance"—whatever that meant. Draco was just happy that it meant more time with his best friend, as Mr. Nott was over quite a bit and brought his children along with him.

Draco looked then to his mother. In his mother's eyes, he saw something entirely different then agitation that filled his father. Tears threatened to spill onto her cheeks as she wrapped her arms around her son.

"I'm only an owl away, my dragon. If you need anything-ANYTHING- you just tell me, ok?"

Draco felt an unwelcome ache in the pit of his stomach as he realized that he wouldn't see his mother again until Christmas break. He squeezed her back a little tighter than usual, not even caring enough to be embarrassed to be seen clinging to his mom.

Behind them, Lucius cleared his throat and the two broke apart. Draco saw that the embarrassment that he usually felt when his mother tried to express her affection publicly had been transferred to his father.

"Come, Narcissa," his father said curtly. "Son, we will see you at Christmas."

Narcissa obediently pulled away from her son and went to stand with her husband. Both parents waved and then turned to return home.

Draco watched them recede back into the throng of people until they disappeared. He then realized that he was standing alone in the midst of a crowded station and needed to get moving. Turning to the brick wall beside him, Draco tightened his grip on his cart and took a deep breath in. He didn't breathe back out until he had passed through the magical barrier onto platform 9 ¾.

…..

All sadness about leaving his parents behind vanished as the atmosphere of the station immediately changed. Young witches and wizards rushed to and fro, greeting friends and gathering their luggage, steam bellowed from the train, parents said their teary goodbyes. Draco stood transfixed as he drank it all in. He jumped as a slap on his back woke him from his reverie.

"Draco!" a familiar voice shouted. When he turned he was face to face with none other than Theodore Nott. Theodore's short black hair was styled impeccably as always, sweeping slightly up and to the side. Draco noticed his friend had grown yet another inch or two since the last time they had seen each other, which made him look even skinnier than usual. Behind his friend stood Mr. Nott and Theodore's younger sister, her hair was just as dark and straight but she was obviously not blessed with her brother's height.

"Hey, Theo. Where's all your stuff?" Draco asked when he saw that his friend didn't have a cart like his full of luggage.

"Already on the train. I was just saying my goodbyes and then I was going to come looking for you."

Both Theodore and Draco made their way over to the small Nott family, one less since Mrs. Nott's death several years ago. Mr. Nott greeted Draco kindly enough and inquired after his father. Their conversation steered towards Draco's family until Theo's sister interrupted suddenly.

"Daddy, can I please just step onto the train and see what it looks like?"

From the way that Mr. Nott looked down at his second child, Draco could tell this had been the subject of argument all day.

"Harper, I told you no," his tone was harsh and Draco could see tears starting to form in Harper's eyes. She brushed them away when she saw Draco looking at her.

Theodore went to his sister then and bent down to level himself with her. Even though there was only a year difference between the two, she was much smaller than him.

"Hey," he said as she tried to turn away from him. "I'll be back for Christmas before you know it. Next year this will be you and you can sit with me and Draco all the way to Hogwarts. Isn't that right, Draco."

"Yeah. That is if you won't be too intimidated to hang out with the coolest second years on the train," he teased. He was happy to see that his response had brought a smile to Harper's face.

Just then the train whistle blew and all of the students who were not already on board started rushing in the same direction.

"Get going boys," Mr. Nott said. "We'll see you at Christmas, Theodore."

"Bye dad. Bye Harper!" Theo called over his shoulder as he and Draco made their way to the train.

…...

Once aboard, the two boys made their way to the compartment where Theodore had already placed his luggage. Draco hoisted his bags to the storage ledge above them and sat beside his friend.

"Harper seemed pretty upset to see you go," Draco said once they felt the train began to lurch.

"Yea, I think it's going to be pretty hard on her," he responded. "It's just going to be her and dad…" Theo stopped there but Draco could see a look of worry pass over his friend's features. He knew that, like his own father, Mr. Nott could be demanding and strict. They were both former death eaters. Mr. Nott, however, had been much harder on his children since the death of his wife five years earlier. Draco had the sinking suspicion that their home had become much more violent since their mother's passing.

"She can't wait to come with me next year," Theo continued. "But I think she's worried she won't be placed in Slytherin, and you know how dad would feel about that."

Draco was shocked. He couldn't even imagine not being placed in Slytherin. It was almost a given. Except for the occasional bad apple on his mother's side, everyone on both sides of his family tree had been sorted into Slytherin. He knew the same was true for Nott's family. Draco had been raised to assume that's where he would be placed as well.

"Why does she think that?" Draco asked.

"We heard dad talking to our uncle a few weeks ago about it. They're afraid she'll be sorted Ravenclaw. You know Harper, she's curious about everything. Just last month she was in the backyard taking notes on the nesting patterns of garden gnomes."

Draco did know Harper, almost as well as he knew Theodore. The Notts had been close to the Malfoy family as long as Draco could remember. Because of Mrs. Nott's death, both Theodore and Harper had spent countless hours at Malfoy Manor under the supervision of Mrs. Malfoy while their father's met and talked about who knows what. Draco considered the Nott children to be the closest things to siblings that he ever had.

"I don't think there's anything to worry about," Draco said, trying to take Theo's mind off his worries about his little sister. "My dad says that all great witches and wizards are sorted Slytherin. Just because she's smart doesn't mean she'll be sorted Ravenclaw. She's a Nott for Merlin's sake."

Draco's reassurance seemed to lighten Theo's mood as did the trolley that arrived minutes later loaded with chocolate frogs and licorice wands. As they ate their fill, Crabbe and Goyle entered the compartment, probably-Draco thought- lured in by the smell of sweets.

Both of the boys who had just arrived considered themselves Draco's friends. Draco considered them more like his lackeys. Theo was someone he enjoyed hanging out with, someone that compared to him in both interests and smarts. Crabbe and Goyle were pretty dull to say the least, but they came in handy when they were _needed._

 _"_ Did you hear who's on the train?" Goyle asked Draco and Theodore. When both boys shook their heads he continued. "Harry Freaking Potter. Word is he's further up in the train with some dirty ginger boy. Wanna go see if he really has a scar on his face?"

"I'm good," Theo responded. "I don't care to gawk over some scar head."

Draco was about to agree with Theo until he thought about what his father had told him earlier in the day. _Malfoy's make powerful friends_. His father would expect him to at least introduce himself.

"Sure," Draco finally decided. "Theo, we'll be back."

"When you get back tell me how big it is. I bet it covers his whole face," he said sarcastically.

Draco rolled his eyes and jokingly flipped his best friend off as he followed Crabbe and Goyle out of the compartment and through the train.

The boys got to the compartment that Potter was rumored to be in and walked right in without knocking. Draco immediately recognized the boy he had met at Madame Malkin's robe shop early in the summer.

"Is it true? They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?"

When the familiar boy confirmed that he was indeed the Boy that Lived, Draco introduced himself, Crabbe, and Goyle and extended his hand. When the red headed boy beside Harry let out a snigger, Draco looked over at him and wrinkled his nose in disgust. He was obviously a Weasley. Draco's father knew them from work. Apparently they reproduced like rabbits and couldn't afford anything past food to feed their litter. From the look of the boy's dingy clothes, this was true.

"You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better that others," Draco explained to Harry. He realized that if the rumors were true Harry hadn't had much contact with the wizarding world throughout his life, so Draco wanted to help him the best he could. "You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."

To Draco's surprise Harry returned his offer with a look of surprise and disgust.

"I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself," Harry responded. It was obvious that he was talking about Draco when he referred to _the wrong sort._

Draco felt the hairs on his neck bristle in anger. He couldn't believe this _boy_ had just insulted him. The tension in the room rose as both parties prepared to defend their honor.

Draco laughed as Potter and the Weasley boy tried to make themselves look threatening. Both were skinny and didn't look like they had been in a fight in all their lives. He on the other hand had thrown a punch or two and even though he was just as small as them he had Crabbe and Goyle on either side of him. Stupid but _powerful_ friends, just like his father had instructed him to make.

"You're going to fight us, are you," Draco taunted.

"Unless you get out now," Potter responded. The boy's voice wavered with obvious fear. Crabbe and Goyle sneered back at him menacingly- that was until they caught sight of the candy sitting in the bench behind the two boys.

As Draco's two giant bodyguards lurched forward to take the treats, Goyle let out a booming yell. When Draco looked over at him, he saw the large boy flinging his hand through the air. Attached to it was a mangy grey rat. Its front teeth sank deep into the flesh of Goyle's finger. With one final shake of his arm, Goyle was able to detach the rat from his appendage.

Like two frightened animals, Crabbe and Goyle ran from the compartment back the way they had come. Draco didn't want to leave the confrontation that had been started but didn't fancy the odds now that he was left on his own. He was out the door and headed back to his compartment before Potter and Weasley could say another word.


	2. The Sorting Hat

By the time the first students had left the train, crossed the lake by boat, and had been filed into an empty chamber by a witch named Professor McGonagall, Draco had gotten very tired of hearing the story of the two foot rat that had almost gnawed off Goyle's hand. The boy was telling anyone that would listen and the story became more unbelievable with each retelling.

"Glad I decided not to go," Theodore said to Draco as Goyle recreated his heroic fight with the rodent to a very large girl beside him. "Sounds like it was a very dangerous mission."

"Goyle would like you to believe that, wouldn't he," Draco replied, rolling his eyes. "You didn't miss much. Potter turned out to be a complete prat. Merlin's beard, I hope he doesn't get sorted Slytherin."

"Why do you care, Malfoy? You're most likely going to be put in Hufflepuff anyways."

Draco punched his friend in the arm jokingly, which propelled Theodore into a pair of twins standing a few inches away. The girls squealed as Theo bumped into them- at first angry but giggling quietly once they had a good look at him. A stern look from the witch waiting with them told both boys to knock it off. They both tried unsuccessfully to stifle their laughter as she began her explanation.

"Now, form a line," McGonagall ordered, "and follow me."

All of the first years struggled to create a straight line, some pushing other students slightly to stand by the few people they knew. Theodore filed in behind Draco, followed closely by Crabbe and Goyle.

As Professor McGonagall pushed open the massive double doors that led into the Great Hall, Draco was surprised to find himself among the students gasping in astonishment at the room around them. Four long tables stretched the length of the room with house colors decorating them. He recognized the emerald green of Slytherin adorning one of the tables to his right. He also saw crimsons, yellows, and blues. Each table was filled almost to capacity with students of differing ages, all facing the incoming first years. Running along the front of the room was a table reserved for what looked like school staff. An old, silver-haired man, who Draco knew as Albus Dumbledore from his chocolate frog cards, sat in the center. Above him, the stars in the sky twinkled, adding another source of light to the room that was lit by torches and candles.

Draco watched as Professor McGonagall placed a torn wizard's hat on a stool in front of the room. While many of the first years looked at the hat with confusion or fear, Draco only felt excitement. His father had prepared him for this. He had told him that it would be this hat that determined his rightful place in the Slytherin house. As the hat sang its song he felt pride as it sang of Slytherin, where he was sure to make his "real friends, those cunning folk who use any means to achieve their ends." When the song ended, students were called forward to place the hat on their heads and reveal their destinies at the school.

The first student to be accepted into Slytherin was the broad girl that Goyle had been talking to earlier in the night, Millicent Bulstrode. Crabbe and Goyle followed soon after and went to join her at the table. When Draco's name was finally called, he approached the stool with the confidence of a Malfoy. He knew where he belonged and so, apparently, did the sorting hat. Before Professor McGonagall could even place the hat completely on Draco's head, it shouted _Slytherin!,_ and cheers erupted from the house's table. A feeling of pride engulfed Draco as he made his way towards his peers.

An older boy patted him on the back as he passed, heading towards Crabbe and Goyle.

It wasn't long after his own name had been called, that Draco welcomed his best friend and slid over to offer the seat beside him. Theodore had a huge grin across his face.

"We did it," Draco said excitedly.

"Yeah," Theo replied. "I can't believe it. I thought for sure that dirty old hat was going to put you in Hufflepuff, and I was going to have to make a new best friend. Nobody must have told it what a pansy you are."

The Slytherins erupted into laughter, including Draco. The table continued their loud, sarcastic banter until a sudden hush fell over the Great Hall. Harry Potter's name had just been called by McGonagall and he was slowly making his way toward the hat. Whispers filled the air. Even the Slytherins were watching intently. The sorting hat was placed over the boy's head and not a minute later it was shouting its decision.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Cheers erupted across the room at the Gryffindor table. A few redheaded boys stood to welcome him, including the Weasley that he was riding the train with. Draco's eyes remained on the Boy Who Lived, but his ears were focused on the whispered discussions coming from behind him.

"Gryffindor?"

"Really? But I thought?"

Apparently he and his father hadn't been the only one to assume that the Dark Lord had to have been defeated by a powerful _dark_ wizard, and not one that would be accepted into Gryffindor.

"Believe me," he said turning to his fellow housemates. "We don't want him. He is a complete arse and hangs out with filth and blood traitors. We can do much better."

Draco watched the rest of the sorting in a foul mood, though he couldn't figure out why. Why should he care if the famous Harry Potter wasn't who he imagined him to be? It wasn't long until one lone student stood waiting to be called.

"Zabini, Blaise," Professor McGonagall called.

A tall black student walked confidently to the stool. When the sorting hat was placed on the boy's head it took a few moments before it announced _Slytherin_ to the room. Blaise took the hat from his head and walked towards the table where Theodore and Draco sat. Theo slid over to make room for this final student and shook hands with him, introducing both himself and Draco.

Shortly after introductions were made Dumbledore stood from his seat along the front table and made his way to the podium. With a flick of his wrist, he filled each of the four long tables with more food than Draco had ever seen. Hundreds of hungry hands grabbed at roast chicken, boiled potatoes, and Yorkshire pudding among other things. As the students around him ate they slowly got to know one another, swapping names and stories all throughout dinner. Before long everyone started to slow, and Draco felt drowsy from the effects of all of the food that he had eaten.

"That was the best meal I have _ever_ had," Zabini said beside him leaning back and animatedly bringing his hands to his stomach.

Both Draco and Theo agreed wholeheartedly. Crabbe and Goyle continued to stuff their faces with pudding.

As dinner ended, prefects from each table began to stand. A tall Slytherin who introduced himself as Eric Murley called for his table's attention and asked for the students to follow him. Draco rose with the rest of his house and followed Eric out of the Great Hall and down a corridor which led to a set of ever shifting stairs. Draco gawked at ancient paintings of famous and not so famous witches and wizards that lined the walls. Once Eric had led them out of earshot of the groups of other houses, he started explaining where they were going. The Slytherin's devoted their attention to him as they followed him lower and lower through the school. Each level becoming progressively darker.

"The Slytherin common room is six levels down from the Great Hall. You'll take the stairs that we just descended until you arrive at the dungeons." Eric said the word _dungeons_ just as he led the students down one last flight of stairs and around the corner to a place that Draco could assume was exactly that- the dungeons. "You will want to go straight to the common room. Many Slytherins have thought that it is a good idea to go exploring down here. If you were thinking this, think again."

"Well, damn," Draco mumbled sarcastically under his breath to Blaise and Theo. "That was exactly what I had planned to do-explore a smelly old dungeon."

The boys chucked and Eric shot them a dirty look as he continued.

"Filch has been known to lurk around the dungeons at different parts of the day. If he catches you sneaking around, he _will_ give you detention and he _will_ deduct points from Slytherin. I don't need any first years losing us points for a reason as stupid as playing around where they shouldn't be. It would be a good idea for you to keep this in mind if you want us to win the house cup for the seventh year in a row."

Eric led the first years around another corner and stopped in front of a solid stone wall. The only reason that this portion of the wall stood out was that two torches hung from it. They were spaced just far enough apart to fit a door between them-a door that didn't exist.

"Merlin's blood," Eric recited.

Where the brick wall had just been, a door appeared. Eric opened it and motioned for the first years to enter. The first thing that Draco noticed was the green tint that lay over everything. At first he assumed that the glow was coming from the emerald lamps that hung from the stone walls, but then he noticed that on either side of the giant fireplace directly in front of them were large windows. This seemed impossible at first as they were many stories under the ground, but as he looked closer he could see fish swimming through murky green water.

"This is the main area common room. Outside the windows you will see that a portion of your living quarters is under the lake. Occasionally you can see the giant squid swimming by," Eric said, sounding a lot like a tour guide. "Down a set of stairs to your left you will find the boys dormitories. Girls are then down the set of stairs on your right. Your luggage has already been delivered to your rooms by the house elves. You are free to go unpack your things now."

Once Eric finished his explanation, boys and girls split off and went to their respective dormitories. Draco was happy to see that his things were already at the bed next to Theodore's, Zabini's to the other side. Without even touching his things, Draco threw himself back onto his bed, his hands behind his head, and let out a content sigh. This was home now and it already felt right.


	3. Double Potions

After almost a week of classes, Draco was starting to feel as though he had found a second home at Hogwarts. He and Theo got along well with almost everyone in their house and had formed a quick friendship with Blaise Zambini. The boys had finally gotten used to all the moving staircases and disappearing doors and most of their classes were at least interesting. As they sat at breakfast on Friday morning, the three friends looked forward to their day of double potions.

As they munched away on their breakfast, the call of owls echoed through the Great Hall, and a multitude of birds descended on them. Draco's large grey owl extended its foot for him to untie the bulky sweets box from its leg. Crabbe and Goyle eyed Draco across the table as he opened it to find that his mother had sent all of his favorites, treacle fudge and a pint of No-melt ice cream among the lot.

"You're going to share some of that, right?" Blaise half-joked, pointing to the sugared butterfly wings. "And if not you better hide it from Crabbe and Goyle. They're already sniffing it out."

"Fat chance I give them any," Draco laughed. He tossed Blaise a butterfly wing and unfolded the letter that accompanied his sweet box.

Draco,

I would be lying if I said that I was a bit shocked by your report of the Potter boy being a friend of traitors and mudbloods. He would have been a powerful ally to have if he were different. I think it would be in our best interest if he happened to be "released" from the school by the end of term.

Lucius Malfoy

Draco paused at the word "released" and then read back over the letter again. What the hell was that supposed to mean? Did his father want Potter expelled? If he knew his father, he would say that was exactly what he wanted. And he was sure that Lucius expected him to make that happen. He shook his head in disgust. He didn't care for stupid Scar-head Potter either, but he was more interested in making friends and passing his classes than following him around, trying to get him in trouble.

Draco's first instinct was to refuse, but he knew that doing so would cause far more headaches than just getting the job done. He moved to fold up the letter and place it into his bag when it bust into a small flame and smoldered quickly onto the table.

"Holy shit," Blaise gasped. "Everyone's getting interesting mail today."

Draco swore and cursed his father as he wiped the soot from his hands. He looked over to his friends and noticed that Theo had disappeared. Only Blaise was left sitting beside him.

"Where did Theo go?" he asked.

"Hell if I know," Blaise replied, taking a bite out of his toast and continuing with his mouth full. "He got a letter as well. He crumpled it up as soon as he read through it and stormed off. Didn't look happy at all."

Draco checked the massive clock on the far end of the Great Hall and realized that they didn't have time to worry about where Theo went at the moment. Double potions started with the Gryffindors in 10 minutes.

….

 _Draco remembered one of the first times that he met Severus Snape. He had been a boy of 7, sulking after a heated argument with his father. On a family outing to Diagon Alley, he had been caught playing with a blood traitor's son outside of Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor. He had no idea that what he was doing was considered wrong. The boy was well dressed and fun. He had suggested a game of tag while their parents were inside getting them treats. It was not until his father exited the shop and he saw the anger boiling beneath the surface of his features that Draco realized that he had done something terribly wrong._

 _He had dishonored the family name—again. Draco's cheek had been bruised as a direct result as soon as the trio had arrived home. He sat in the shadows of the giant oak tree on the lawn of the manor, tears stinging his eyes when the massive front door slammed and brought him back to the present._

 _A man dressed all in black exited the house. He had a large hooked nose and shoulder length, greasy hair. Like most of his father's friends, he did not look kind._

 _Draco hurried to wipe the remaining tears from his eyes as the tall man approached him. The man stood beside the tree looking off into the distance across the Malfoy's expansive property, avoiding eye contact with the small boy._

" _Those who cannot control their emotions and allow themselves to be provoked easily stand no chance against those that would seek to defeat them," the man said._

 _Before Draco, could even think to respond, the man had left his side. Walking off the property and past the extensive wards that had been placed around his family's manor to disapperate to wherever he had come from._

… _._

When Draco and Blaise arrived at potions, the memory was still fresh in Draco's mind. That had been the first time that he had met Severus Snape but it wouldn't be the last. Each time Snape visited the Manor, he made a point to seek out the young Malfoy, almost as if checking up on him. Draco was proud that he had taken Snape's words to heart. After the incident with the ice cream shop, Draco had sworn to shed no more tears. He would not be seen as weak by those around him.

As the boys looked around the classroom, they noticed an obvious divide. The Gryfindors stuck to the right side of the room while the Slytherins controlled the left. Theo was still nowhere to be seen.

"Oil and Water," Blaise said as they observed the room. "—the Slytherins being the Oil that rises to the top, separating itself from the water below."

Draco rather liked Blaise's comparison and smirked as they found a seat in the back close to a group of pretty Slytherin girls, Pansy Parkinson being among them. The girls giggled as the boys sat behind them.

"Hey Draco," Pansy said, obviously trying to sound cooler than she felt. "I heard flying lessons are supposed to start next week. I also heard you are pretty good with your broomstick."

Her friends giggles grew and Pansy's ears reddened, but she kept her eyes locked on Draco's.

"If first years were allowed their brooms, I could take you on a ride," Draco responded coolly. "My father has been talking about upgrading my Comet 260 to a Nimbus 2000 next summer. It's supposed to be one of the best racing brooms on the market."

Draco noticed at this point all of the girls were looking at him with interested so he continued. "This past summer, I took my comet all the way to Winchester and back. Almost got hit by a muggle helly-copter on the wa—"

"Now, now Draco," Theo's voice drawled as he set his bag on the desk next to his friends. "Last time I heard this story it was a muggle kite, now it's a helly-copter? Your stories are starting to get as bad as Crabbe and Goyles."

The girls at the desk in front of them giggled again and Daphne Greengrass batted her long eyelashes at Theo in an obvious cry for attention. Draco rolled his eyes at his friend, annoyed as his inconvenient return.

"Welcome back, Theodore," Draco hissed.

"Don't worry Draco," Theo laughed. "These girls know how good you are on your broom and if they don't they soon will." He threw a wink in their direction and sat down just as Professor Snape entered the room.

Snape's mere presence silenced the excited chatter of the students on both sides of the room, however the feeling of that silence differed among the students. The Slytherins sat in awe of the power that radiated off of a man like Professor Snape, while some of the Gryfindors looked terrified.

Professor Snape immediately started reading down the class roster and took a long pause when reading Harry Potter's name.

"Ah, yes," he said. "Harry Potter. Our new— _celebrity_."

Theo and Draco stifled laughter that this statement. Unfortunately Theo's turned into more of a snort. Pansy and her friends started to giggle and Snape's head snapped in their direction. Instead of addressing the laughter, he went on to explain the beauty of potion making and what it entailed. His speech gave Draco and Theo time to collect themselves. They hadn't been collected very long however, when Snape started drilling Potter with questions. The combination of the look on his face and the near seizure that his bushy-haired friend was having from NOT being able to answer the questions was too much for the pair to take. Before they knew it they were laughing again.

"For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?"

Every single person in the class started rummaging in their bags for their quills and parchment, including the three Slytherin boys in the back. Clearly, Snape was not messing around.

….

Half-way into their second block of potions for the day Snape had them mixing up a cure for boils. The students had all been asked to find a partner to work on the potion with. They had until the end of the block to complete the task.

At first, the boys were unsure of who would be left out of the group. Draco obviously wanted to work with Theo, but didn't want Blaise to be left to find a partner on his own. Theo eventually bowed out to work with Daphne Greengrass, although from the looks of things he didn't mind at all.

"Did you see the look on Potter's face when Snape asked him all those questions? He had no idea what was going on," Blaise laughed. "Saint Potter isn't as amazing as everyone makes him out to be. From the looks of it, I'm surprised he got his letter at all."

Draco peered over to see Potter and Weasley adding far too much eye of newt before the potion was even starting to bubble.

"He's obviously not as powerful as everyone would like to think," Draco scoffed. He thought back to his mail from this morning and wished that Potter's letter had never come. Then he wouldn't have to worry about his father's "request".

Just then, a high squeal filled the room and students started jumping up onto their desks. It didn't take everyone long to realized that the squeals were coming from none other than Neville Longbottom, an idiot boy who looked like he might have fallen on his head a few to many times. He screamed in pain as his potion seeped into his skin, causing boils to appear all over him.

Snape rushed over angrily cleaning the mess up with a wave of his wand.

"Take him to the hospital wing," he roared at Neville's partner. "You—Potter—why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he would make you look good if he got it wrong did you?!"

As Snape berated Potter for the second time in just a few short hours, Draco watched as Theo helped Daphne down from her position on the desk. She looked distraught as Theo set her on the ground.

"That was terrible! He could have given us all boils!" she complained aloud. "What was he thinking?"

"I don't think that one does much thinking," Draco responded. "And from what I see, Potter thinks he's going to benefit from his classmates stupidity."

After Potions that afternoon, the Slytherin student's couldn't stop talking about how awful Harry Potter was. The combination of Snape and Draco's comments had started almost a mob-like hatred of the boy. If Draco was completely honest with himself, it aggravated him. He really would much rather prefer that they not talk about Potter at all. However, this new hatred of the boy could serve his purposes well if he needed to be expelled by the end of the year.

"So, Daphne Greengrass?" Blaise teased, as the boys descended into the dungeons. You were looking pretty cozy with her by the end of class, Theo. What's up with that?"

Theo reddened slightly, but tried to play it off. He shrugged. "She's hot."

Blaise snorted with laughter. "She's hot? Seriously Theo. That's all you have to say!"

Blaise and Draco teased their friend all the way to the common room about his new found crush. It wasn't until they passed the bulletin board on the wall that their faces fell.

"Shit," Draco muttered under his breathe. "Another fucking class with the Gryfindors."

All three boys read the notice pinned to the board.

1st Year Flying Lessons Start Next Friday Afternoon

1-3 PM: Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff

3-5 PM: Slytherin and Gryfindor

All 1st year students MUST use school issued broomsticks

"You've got to be kidding me," Blaise moaned. "We are never going to learn anything with all the Gryfindor's sliding off the ends of their brooms all class."

Draco nodded in agreement, but really he was just dreading having another class with Harry Fucking Potter.


	4. Flying Lessons

**A/N: Next chapter is here! As you may have noticed a few chapters (this one included) will go along with the novels to show Draco's perspective on the events as they unfold. I hope to show his side of the story as well as his motivations.**

 **Please realize, however, that Draco's story will be much more complex than just what happened in the books. After this chapter, his story will be more original. Most chapters will be completely Draco related with an originally story line. This will all tie in with the story as it was told by the amazing JK Rowling.**

 **Happy Reading!**

 _Last chapter…._

 _After Potions that afternoon, the Slytherin student's couldn't stop talking about how awful Harry Potter was. The combination of Snape and Draco's comments had started almost a mob-like hatred of the boy. If Draco was completely honest with himself, it aggravated him. He really would much rather prefer that they not talk about Potter at all. However, this new hatred of the boy could serve his purposes well if he needed to be expelled by the end of the year._

" _So, Daphne Greengrass?" Blaise teased, as the boys descended into the dungeons. You were looking pretty cozy with her by the end of class, Theo. What's up with that?"_

 _Theo reddened slightly, but tried to play it off. He shrugged. "She's hot."_

 _Blaise snorted with laughter. "She's hot? Seriously Theo. That's all you have to say?"_

 _Blaise and Draco teased their friend all the way to the common room about his new found crush. It wasn't until they passed the bulletin board on the wall that their faces fell._

" _Shit," Draco muttered under his breathe. "Another fucking class with the Gryffindors."_

 _All three boys read the notice pinned to the board._

 _1_ _st_ _Year Flying Lessons Start Next Friday Afternoon_

 _1-3 PM: Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff_

 _3-5 PM: Slytherin and Gryfindor_

 _All 1_ _st_ _year students MUST use school issued broomsticks_

" _You've got to be kidding me," Blaise moaned. "We are never going to learn anything with the Gryffindors sliding off the ends of their brooms all class."_

 _Draco nodded in agreement, but really he was just dreading having another class with Harry Fucking Potter._

….

 **Chapter 4: Flying Lessons**

Friday was a perfect day for flying. The early afternoon sun peered curiously out behind white, fluffy clouds. There was a gentle breeze, but it wasn't strong enough to affect flying conditions. Draco and his friends walked toward the large clearing where the broomsticks were laid out in two neat lines.

"Look at the state of these things," Blaise complained loudly, as the boys drew nearer. "They have to be at least as old as Merlin!"

"I don't even care, mate," Theo replied, his pace quickening. "I feel like I haven't been on a broom in ages."

"Agreed." Draco said with a boyish smile on this lips. He joined Theo at the line of broomsticks and picked one up in his hands. He could almost feel the excitement radiating through his fingertips and into the broom as it started to hum slightly. Draco was just about to hop on and go for a quick spin when he saw more people approaching.

A healthy mix of both Slytherin and Gryffindor students were arriving from one end of the field and a severe looking women with cropped grey hair from the other.

"Jumping the gun a little don't you think, boys?" The women said as she approached. Draco looked to either side of him and saw that his two friends also had broomsticks in their hands. "I'm sure you are just as excited as every other student to show off your flying skills, but that will have to wait until class officially starts."

Blaise and Theo must have felt the authority in her voice just as Draco did because all three Slytherin boys uncharacteristically obeyed without objection.

They watched as once again the class divided itself without a word. It was funny how the Gryffindors already seemed to know their place in their combined classes. Separate from Slyterhin who wanted nothing to do with them. Blaise stifled a laugh as Potter and his lackeys lined up amongst their classmates. The bushy-haired brat looking almost petrified staring down at her broom.

"Potter and his girlfriend are going to make absolute fools of themselves," he said, chuckling. "They act like they've never seen one before in their life."

"They probably haven't you idiot," Draco grumbled, annoyed that once again the topic of conversation had turned to the Potter boy. "She's a not even a real witch and rumor is _he_ lived with a bunch of Muggles his whole life, probably why he's such a mudblood lover—"

"Welcome to your first day of flying lessons," the commanding voice of their professor interrupted the boys' conversation. "My name is Madam Hooch, and I will be your instructor for this term."

She started to circle the two lines of students as she looked them up and down, almost as if searching for the talent that lay hidden among them.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" she barked. "Everyone by a broom. Stick out your right and say 'UP'!"

All at once the field erupted as students shouted the command. Draco was pleased as he felt the broom hit the palm of his hand immediately. His two friends beside him in the exact position, standing proudly with brooms in their hands.

Snorts of laughter resonated through the Slytherin line as they watched the struggle on the other side.

The Granger girl stomped her feet in frustration as her broom acted like a stubborn dog, rolling over repeatedly in the grass with no regard to its master's commands. Longbottoms's on the other hand remained still as the grave and a quaver rose in his voice.

"I think Longbottom's going to cry," Draco said, pointing to the boy who had just earlier that week erupted in boils during their first potions lesson.

"I can already tell that he is going to be quite the source of entertainment," replied Theo.

And he wasn't wrong, seconds after Madam Hooch instructed them to kick off the ground and hover slightly in the air, the Longbottom boy was in their air and rising higher and higher. She shouted for him to come back but it was clear to all those watching that he couldn't even if he wanted to.

"That fat lump better not look down," Theo said. His hand shielded his eyes from the afternoon sun as he watched the frightened boy grow smaller as he went. "Oh. Wait. Yep, never mind. He looked."

And with that there was a loud screech, a sudden thud, and a long moan. The minute the boy hit the ground, the Gryffindors crowded around him in a circle. Despite their worried expressions, it was clear that the incident surprised none of them. Madam Hooch pushed through the crowed to attend to the injured student. Seconds later she emerged from the circle of students with Longbottom stuck to her side.

"None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch.'"

When Madam Hooch was out of earshot, the Slytherin class couldn't hold their laughter in much longer. The chuckles started and couldn't be stopped.

"Did you see his face, the great lump?" Draco said turning to Theo. "Thankfully he had enough fluff to cushion his fall."

"If he hadn't, Hooch would be cleaning up splattered Longbottom instead of taking him to the hospital wing," Blaise said, joining in.

It was then that Draco saw a sparkling ball filled with grey smoke laying on the lawn not far from the group of students. He recognized it as the Remembrall that Longbottom had gotten this morning.

Draco sauntered over to the small clear ball and turned it over in his hands then tossed it up and catching it again with ease. He was just about to toss it to Theo when Potter's voice issued a command from behind him.

"Give that here, Malfoy," Potter demanded, a slight tremor in this voice.

Draco chuckled humorously.

"Just for that, why don't I put it somewhere for Longbottom to find?" He grabbed for the handle of his broom and looked at the shocked faces of the Gryffindors with delight.

Before he know it, he was 20 feet above his classmates, a Rememberall in his tight grip. At first, Draco wasn't even sure he knew exactly what he was doing, but then the words of his father's letter came back into his mind.

 _I think it would be in our best interested if he happened to be "turned away" from the school by the end of term._

It was then that Draco realized that this was his chance to get Potter expelled. As he watched the Gryffindor throw a leg over his broom, Draco realized that this could play out several ways.

The first was that Potter could have no idea how to fly the broom in the first place. He could fall back to the castle grounds from high above and be too injured to continue the school year. As the dark hair boy rose confidently to reach Draco's height, however, it was obvious that flying itself wasn't going to be a problem.

The second scenario was that Potter could be caught by the severe Madam Hooch when she got back, sent straight to the headmaster's office, and expelled just as he father wanted. For that to happen, however, Draco knew that he would have to keep Potter in the air long enough for the professor to get all the way back from the hospital wing. He could do that.

"What's wrong, Potter," Draco jeered. " _Daddy_ didn't teach you how to ride a broomstick?"

The Slytherins below cheered at Draco's taunts and he could feel the power associated with the loyalty and approval of his classmates spread through his chest. It was this approval that made him want to show off just a little bit more.

As Draco took off full speed toward the castle, however, that feeling was replaced by uncertainty as he saw the extent of Potter's flying skills.

 _What the bloody Hell,_ he thought as he picked up speed. Potter's command of a broomstick was not something that he anticipated.

Draco sped towards the castle and just as he was about to collide with it made a sharp angled turn upwards, seeming to climb the stone wall. He could feel the wind rushing past him, and he smiled smugly, looking back at Potter who had slowed slightly to avoid crashing into a bloody mess.

"Maybe if you had Longbottom's Rememberall you would have remembered that you were better off on the ground with the muggle-born scum that make up the majority of your house, Potter," Malfoy sneered.

Potter growled angrily at Draco and charged him suddenly, easily maneuvering his broom to gain his lost distance.

Caught off guard, Draco barely had time to swerve out of the way. Now it was the Gryffindors who were cheering below. Anger bubbled in Draco's chest then.

He looked below prepared to hurtle a stream of curses to the clapping students below him. That's when he saw Theodore looking towards the castle with a look of worry on his face. His was the only face not turned to the sky. The only student who realized that Madam Hooch was exiting the castle.

From the looks of things, she hadn't realized that two of her first year students were currently engaged in the same behavior she had prohibited. Draco realized then that there was a third outcome to this plan.

The third scenario was that they would _both_ be caught off the ground. They would _both_ be sent to the headmaster's office. They would _both_ be expelled.

Well, they would both be threatened with expulsion. Draco had his father. As a member of Hogwarts Board of Governors and a person of high influence at the ministry, it was unlikely that Lucius would allow his son to be expelled. Potter on the other hand had nothing. No parents, no connections, no real knowledge of the wizarding world in which he found himself a part of.

However, Draco did not wish to disappoint his father. Despite the fact that he wasn't fond of his father's ridiculous request, he did oddly desire to make his father see that he was someone to be proud of, that he wasn't just a mess up that played with muggleborns in the streets or shrunk away every time his father's more "sinister" comrades came around the house.

It was then that the idea struck him. He drew his arm back and chucked the Rememberall as far as he could. It hurtled toward the castle straight towards the top of the tower that Madam Hooch was exiting.

Potter would have to make a decision. Let his porky friend's possession crash into a thousand shards and avoid the eyes of their professor or save the Rememberall and be caught in the act of flying.

It was obvious even before Potter's broom zoomed towards the building which he would choose. Draco knew his type. Heroic. Show off. Always doing things for the good of others. An easy way to lose sight of who you truly were, according to this father.

As Potter raced in the direction of his imminent expulsion, Draco quickly lowered back to the ground and went to rejoin the Slytherin students as if nothing had ever happened.

"What the hell were you thinking," Theo hissed as Draco feet touched down on the law beside him. "You could have gotten expelled if you had stayed up there any longer."

"Chill out, mate," Draco responded. "All part of the plan."

Theo rolled his eyes. Draco had filled him in on Lucius's request earlier in the week once the common room had cleared out for the night. While Theo agreed with his best friend that the idea to get Potter expelled was mental, he also knew what it was like to have a father that expected certain things from a son- more importantly- an only heir to the family name.

"Well, all I ask is that you don't get expelled in the process," Theo said, an edge of concern in his voice. He nodded over to Crabbe and Goyle standing nearby. "I don't fancy being left alone in this place with the likes of these idiots."

Draco laughed as he looked over at the two boys to their left. One was clearly eating a very messy chocolate treat out of the pocket of his robes, while the other sniffed the air in search of the chocolatey smell.

"Having powerful families means that _we_ are above those petty worries," Draco replied confidently. "Now if only we could find some powerful allies as well."

It was then that they heard the sharp trill of Professor McGonagall across the lawn.

"HARRY POTTER!"

The boys looked over to the far side of the lawn. The Gyffindors had made their way over to where Potter had landed as both McGonagall and Hooch approached. Other than the shriek of Potter's name, Draco and Theodore couldn't hear the conversation that was being had. They could, however, clearly see the look of distress on all their faces. McGonagall took Potter by the arm and pulled him quickly inside the castle. Before the door shut behind them, Draco saw Potter glare back towards the lawn in his direction.

"Mission complete," Draco said under his breath. A triumphant smile on spread across his face.

…

 **A/N: Thank you for reading! Reviews are much appreciated…. They help my motivation to write lol**

 **Also, is there any particular questions you want answered about Draco's first year at Hogwarts? Any tie-ins you want to see?**


	5. Flint's Proposition

**Chapter Five: Flint's Proposition**

The Great Hall was especially loud the evening following flying lessons. The Slytherin table has teaming with excitement as Draco retold the story of getting Potter expelled for the fourth time that day. Pansy Parkinson leaned in as he got to the part where he threw the Rememberall straight towards the castle.

"How long do you think he has to get his things together before they boot him out," Pansy questioned, scooting even closer to Draco on the bench seat.

Draco's pulse quickened at her proximity and he could feel the tops of his ears reddening slightly. He tried to play it off coolly. "I'd say he has until tomorrow morning, _maybe_ the end of the weekend at most."

Theodore leaned in from the other side. "The way Draco threw that Remeberall, I'd say Marcus Flint will be approaching him within the same amount of time to join the Slytherin Quidditch team. Did you see how well he flew? He'd be a great chaser."

Draco looked over at Theodore with a look of confusion on his face. There was no way Flint would pick a first year for the team and he knew it. But when he looked at Theodore to his left he was given a sly wink at the same time he felt Pansy's fingers on his arm to the right.

"Oh, Draco! I could totally believe it! Wait till Flint hears about today."

Draco's ears burned and he knew that by now it would be obvious that he was blushing, the rise in color hard to hide on his fair skin. Pansy didn't seem to mind as she cooed over him for the rest of dinner. Draco made a mental note to thank Theo later.

xxxxx

Dinner had finally wrapped up, and Pansy had reluctantly _un_ wrapped herself from Draco's arm where she had stayed for most of dinner. Draco couldn't believe how much attention this afternoon's stunt had afforded him among his peers, especially with the girls in his year.

Pansy pouted as she and her friends got up to leave the table once the food had cleared. She was off to the library with friends to study for a History of Magic exam that they had early next week.

"I'll see you later, ok?" Pansy called, as her friends pulled her away.

"Yeah, absolutely!" Draco responded eagerly. He felt a punch in his side almost as soon as the girls pulled away.

"Don't sound so needy," Theo teased. "Merlin, you do one noteworthy thing and girls can't keep their hands off of you."

Draco felt a cheesy grin spread over his face which his friend couldn't help but replicate.

"But seriously, mate, now that the Potter problem is dealt with, what's the next step?"

Draco thought for a moment, as he grabbed his school bag from under the bench seat and threw it over his shoulder. The two boys made their way down the aisle between tables as they spoke.

"I saw we go rub our victory in Potter's face and go get freshened up. Pansy and Daphne will be back from the library in a few hours. Maybe they'll be up for a little snogging."

Theodore rolled his eyes. "You've never kissed a girl in your life. Well except for your mother. Don't act like you're just going to wrap Parkinson up in your arms and carry her off to your bed."

Draco scoffed. "Please don't act like your one time make out session with Nina Murton at my family's Christmas party means you have ANY experience. She was hideous. Anyways, one of the third years said that the trophy room is always unlocked. That might be nice and private for a good snog."

Theo was just about to give a retort when the boys realized that they were walking past the Gryffindor table. Potter and his friends were just finishing up as well when Draco stopped to drop his last insult before he, hopefully, never saw the boy again.

"Having your last meal, Potter? When are you getting the train back to the Muggles?"

"You're a lot braver now that you have your friend by your side," Potter said, clearly feigning indifference.

"I'd take you any time on my own," said Draco "Tomorrow night if you want. Wizards duel. Wands only- no contact. What's the matter? Never heard of a wizards duel, I suppose."

It was then that the Weasel spoke up angrily.

"Of course he has! I'm his second. Who's yours?"

"Theo, of course," Draco responded, nodding to his friend. "Midnight all right? We'll meet you in the trophy room."

xxxxx

"What the bloody hell was that about," Theodore demanded as they left the Great Hall. "The job is done, mate. You did what your father wanted!"

"I'm not so sure things are playing out how we thought they were going to," Draco said with a sneer. "Those Gryffindors looked much too happy before we approached to be lamenting the departure of Saint Potter, and I'm not telling father anything until Potter is gone for sure."

"So what does fighting him in the trophy room have to do with getting him out of here?"

"I'm working on it," Draco replied thoughtfully. "Maybe we can make it look like he and Weasel attacked us, or get the room thoroughly destroyed and lock them in it. The professors will think they did it."

"I don't know." Theodore seemed skeptical of the plan and with good reason. "None of these seem very fool proof. Maybe we just wait to see if he's gone Monday morning."

"I can't. Father will be on me until I make this happen, so I have to make sure it's a done deal."

Theo stopped arguing then as he always did when Lucius was brought up. Theo and Draco had been friends long enough to know that what father wanted, father got no matter which one they were talking about.

"Ok. Fine. But you owe me."

By the time they got back to the common room, most of the couches had been taken, so Theo got his set of Wizards Chess and laid it out in front of the hearth on the floor. They were both too wound up from the day's events, so studying was out. Theodore was determined to beat Draco for once and Draco was determined not to let that happen. Both completely invested in the game in front of them, they were startled when a pair of black heavy boots appeared beside their game board.

Draco and Theodore looked up in unison to see Marcus Flint standing above them with a wicked smile on his face. The sixth year boy was head of the Slytherin quidditch team. Draco had already established the belief that this position of power was the only reason any of his peers actually liked him. Flint was rotten to the core and mercilessly cruel. Even his fellow Slytherins shied away from dealing with him if they didn't have to. The rest of the quidditch team were the only people that associated with him willingly.

Draco's heart leapt as he remembered the words Theodore had said to Pansy earlier that evening at the dining table about Flint offering him a spot on the team. From the incredulous look on Theo's face, he was thinking the same thing.

"Nott. Malfoy." Flint greeted with a broad smile that showed each of his protruding teeth. "Walk with me if you would."

The two boys eyed each other nervously and then stood, completely neglecting the game of Wizard's Chess they had started. They followed Flint over to an emerald couch that seemed to have been cleared just for him. His arms stretched out on either side of him arrogantly. Draco and Theodore tried to act as superior as the older boy, but as they sat across from him on an identical sofa their confidence faltered.

"A few times a semester some of the Slytherins like to meet in the dungeons to participate in what we like to consider a _modified_ wizard'sduel. Winner takes a cut of the bets; it's usually a couple dozen galleons."

Draco and Theo looked from Flint to each other at the same time with wide eyes. It must have looked rather comical because Flint chuckled to himself.

"You don't have much of a chance of winning at this point, but I'm in charge of recruiting first years each term. If you participate and pay attention, you could be raking in some serious bank by your 5th or 6th year. What do you think?"

"Why us?" Draco asked. He tried to make his voice sound a bit more confident than he felt. "You haven't even seen us perform more than a few spells in the past two weeks."

"Let's just say that some family names hold more promise than others." Flint left his answer at that but Draco knew what he meant. Almost all Slytherins were purebloods, but not all of their fathers had the dark mark etched into the undersides of their arms.

"When and where is this happening," Theo asked, breaking through Draco's thoughts.

"Tomorrow night is our first meeting. Nothing huge. We just like to get a feel of who we've got so we can plan brackets accordingly. If you're up for trying it out, be in dungeon 518 tomorrow night at 11:30. I obviously shouldn't have to tell you to keep it quiet. Eric has a ten foot stick up his ass about anyone being in the dungeons where they shouldn't be. You nark and we've got problems."

xxxxx

Draco and Theodore didn't get a chance to discuss the proposition that Marcus had made to them that night. As soon as they had been left alone to talk it over, the girls had returned from their library study session.

It was obvious that they had made some pact to travel as a group the rest of the night because although Draco and Theo had plenty of time to talk to Pansy and Daphne they did not leave their gaggle of girlfriends for more than a few seconds at a time. The furthest either of them got was a passing bump of a knee or an accidental touch of a hand.

By the next afternoon in transfiguration, the boys had still not had a chance to discuss whether or not they were going to meet in dungeon 518 that night. As Draco was once again practicing changing his textbook into a small cauldron, he noticed Theodore nonchalantly pass a scrap of parchment sideways towards him. Draco looked cautiously up at McGonagall and saw that she was engaged in helping a Hufflepuff change a goblet back into her toad. Only then did he grab the note and read.

 _What do you think of Flints offer?_

Draco grabbed his quill and scratched back a response before sliding it back to Theo.

 _I think we go for it. Marcus Flint is one of the ruling upperclassmen. Make friends with him and we'll have it made._

When Theodore read the note. He shook his head before answering.

 _What about your duel with Potter tonight? Potter we can take, but other D.E. kids?_

 _I'll worry about Potter. This opportunity is bigger. Powerful friends, Theo. Plus we've been wizard dueling each other since we were five. Stop being a pansy._

 _True but what did he mean by 'modified' wizards duel?_

Before Draco could respond, he noticed McGonagall walking towards their row, eyes bent on the note sitting between the two boys. Draco noticed this too and quickly grabbed his wand and muttered an incantation to wipe any traces of their conversation before the old witch could get to it.

A deep frown crept across the professor's lips as she realized that she had gotten to the table too late.

"Is there a problem over here boys?" She asked, clearly referring to the note passing that was going on.

Both boys feigned ignorance and shook their heads.

" _Obviously_ not. Just practicing for the exam." Draco's voice dripped with arrogance, thinking that they had not been caught.

"If that is so, Mr. Malfoy, you might consider transforming the notes you are passing into something a bit more productive."

McGonagall flicked her wand at the blank note now sitting between the two boys and it transformed itself into a blue detention form. Across the top was written _Draco Malfoy_ and _Theodore Nott._ The boys groaned in unison.

"Mr. Filch will be expecting the both of you tonight at 10 pm sharp."

Xxxxx

"Shit, man," Theodore complained as they left transfiguration and headed to the Great Hall for dinner. "Why do you always have to be a complete prick all the time?"

"This is _not_ my fault! You were the one that started passing the note in the first place."

"Yeah," Theo conceded. "But sometimes you've gotta sweet talk your way with the ladies and get yourself out of things. Your tone was asking for her to throw us in detention."

"She was being a bitch," Draco argued.

Theodore rolled his eyes, clearly done trying to make his point.

"Well, I guess we are going to have to tell Marcus that we can't come tonight. Detention isn't out until midnight. He's going to be pissed." Theo looked nervous at just the thought of angering Marcus. "I think you should tell him. You are the reason we can't go."

"Ok, I will," Draco said confidently. "And not because this is my fault, but because I'm not a pussy."

Draco walked off toward the Slytherin table with Theodore following close behind. At the far end, sat the entire Slytherin quidditch team. Marcus was in the middle of them all. When he saw Draco and Theo approaching, he rose from his seat and met them halfway, effectively distancing himself from the prying ears of his teammates.

"We still expect you to be there after midnight," he said after Draco finished explaining the situation. "The duels usually go late, and we want to see what everyone can do before the first official match."

The boys stood in shocked silence at his statement. It was a few seconds before Draco spoke up.

"Yeah… Ok. We'll be there as soon as we can. We'll only be two floors above that for detention anyways so we can get there really fast."

Theodore agreed with Draco and Marcus nodded. As the two boys turned to find a place at the table to eat, they heard the older boy call after them, singling Draco out in his comment.

"You'll find, Malfoy, that you're going to do many things over the course of your life that people will tell you are wrong. The trick is not to get caught. If you're going to be a real Slytherin, you better learn that pretty damn quick."

xxxxx

 **A/N: Reviews are appreciated! I'm a few chapters ahead so I'm hoping to post consistently every week.**


	6. The Modified Dueling Club

**The Modified Dueling Club**

The only good thing about receiving detention from Filch was being able to easily take care of their "Potter" problem. Upon arriving in Filch's office, Draco was sure to casually mention to Theodore that he had overheard the Potter boy talking about defacing some of the trophies in the Trophy Room. Upon overhearing this, Filch quickly gave the boys directions on how to fulfill their punishment and then left the room with his ugly cat. Draco was sure that he knew exactly where he was going.

His feeling of accomplishment at screwing Potter over did _not,_ however, lessen his fury with Marcus Flint or about having received detention.

Filch had the boys refiling past student records that had gotten mixed up when Peeves decided to fly through the dungeons, flipping over anything that he could get ahold of. As Draco finished with one cabinet drawer, he slammed it shut and yanked open another one as he complained.

"How dare Flint say that I'm not a _real_ Slytherin? I'm a fucking _Malfoy_. I'm more of a Slytherin than him."

Theodore kept his mouth shut and let his friend rant. He had known Draco long enough to understand that interrupting him while he was on a roll could be dangerous. It wasn't until Draco seemed to run out of steam that he spoke.

"Do you see what he's saying though, Draco? Sucking up to McGonagall would have kept us from getting caught. Sometimes you've gotta act if you're not going to get in trouble. I think he's just worried that if you can't get out of a detention for passing a note you're not going to be able to hide the fact that this dueling club is going on."

Draco huffed and continued to work. He didn't want to admit it, but Theo was right. He was always right. Theodore was such a level-headed person who could talk himself out of anything. Draco on the other hand got what he wanted, and if he didn't he was going to make it known that he was pissed.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

After what seemed like ages later, the boys heard the metal of the dungeon door squeal as Filch hobbled into the room.

"Well boys, time's up. I hope you got somethin' done or you'll be back in here with me tomorrow night."

Filch flashed the boys a wicked smile and then made his way over to the dozens of cabinets that they had been working on. His smile faded when he saw that they were meticulously organized.

"You didn't use magic to get this done, did you?" Filch asked suspiciously.

"How could we? You took our wands before you left," Draco responded. He was clearly annoyed.

Theodore flashed him a look that seemed to say _watch your tongue_ , and Draco tried to tame his voice as he followed up with "Sir" as kindly as he could. Theodore stifled a laugh at Draco's poor attempt to show some sort of respect towards the man in front of them.

"Well, I suppose so," Filch grumbled to himself, as if disappointed that he couldn't further their detention. "I guess you'll be needing these back then."

The man reluctantly handed the two boys their wands, and they graciously took them.

"Now, make sure you go straight back to your dorms. It's past curfew, and I would _hate_ for you to be back tomorrow night sorting through more records for me."

Theodore and Draco could obviously tell that Filch would be anything but disappointed if they were caught outside of their dorms this late, but both nodded in agreement.

"Yes, sir," Theodore replied. "We'll be sure to get straight to bed. We're beat from doing all this hard work anyways."

Filch gave them another grumpy look before releasing them from detention and sending them on their way. Once they had traveled far enough through the dungeons to avoid being heard by the caretaker, Draco spoke.

" _Sir_? You seriously got me to call that jackass _sir_?"

"Do you notice how we aren't serving any more detentions this week?" Theodore responded. "Sometimes you've got to suck it up and sweet talk your way through situations like these, Draco."

"But he's a squib!" Draco protested. Thinking how his father would deal with the situation, Draco realized that Lucius Malfoy would never be told what to do by someone as low in station as Argus Filch. The fact that he had just done two hours of detention under the supervision of the man made his blood boil.

"Yeah, he might be, but I don't see things changing anytime soon so you're just going to have to deal," Theodore was obviously getting quite annoyed with his friend as they walked the corridors looking for dungeon 518. "Where the hell is this place?"

It was another 15 minutes, before Draco and Theodore found the where they were supposed to meet over two hours ago had they not received detention earlier in the day. As they approached the door, they could hear shouts and cheers beyond it if they strained their hearing. It seemed a silencing charm had been cast, but the magic was wearing off.

When they entered the dungeon, they noticed that it was much larger than any they had been in or passed so far. It was a large oval room with torches hanging from the stone walls. The fire was the only source of light in the room. Around the outer edge, chairs and tables had been pushed to the walls to provide makeshift seating. Despite this, nobody was sitting. A huge crowd of people had made a circle that was almost the diameter of the room. Draco could only see the backs of heads, but he could feel the excitement in the cheers and taunts of the spectators. Although he could not see he dueling wizards, he could hear grunts and struggling- something that was not necessarily normal for a wizard's duel.

"I give," A voice croaked from the middle of the circle. Boos and cheers from the spectators filled the room. Draco and Theodore rose on their tiptoes to try to see what the excitement was about. It was then that the crowd parted and Marcus flint begin to speak.

"We had almost given up on the two of you," he said addressing the newcomers.

Despite being addressed by the sixth year boy who had invited them there, Draco could not keep his eyes off of what he saw as the crowd parted. One fifth year boy stood over another, his wand still in his hand. The other was on the ground, blood streaming from his nose. He reached for his wand, which was on the ground four feet away, before rising to his feet.

"Welcome to our little dueling club," Flint said. "We're glad you decided to make it. We saved two of the underclassmen for you to duel."

Draco felt his hands grow clammy. By the looks of things this was not the type of duel he and Theo were used to. It was then that Flint's use of the term _modified_ made complete sense. Draco looked to his best friend beside him to see if he was freaking out. If he was, he hid it well.

"The rules are simple," Marcus explained. "The competition starts out as any respectable wizard's duel would; you bow to your opponent. That's where the similarities end. You will not be allowed a second. Your goal is to disarm your opponent with magic, using whatever spell will achieve those means for you. Once your opponent is disarmed, you will then use physical force to _finish_ the duel. You win only when your opponent yields."

Marcus's eyes flitted from Draco to Theodore, most likely trying to size them up and look for any signs for shock or fear. Draco tried hard not to give him that satisfaction. As crazy as it sounded, Draco was proud to have been even considered for membership in this elite club, even after his slip up in getting detention.

"Malfoy, you're up first."

Draco's heart pounded in his chest as he stepped forward and the crowd closed in around him. He rolled up the sleeves of his white button-down shirt and loosened his tie, trying to steady his fingers as he did so. He hoped to Merlin that the on looking crowd could not see his hands shaking as he pulled out his want.

"Now remember," Marcus added from the sideline. "This is to place you in the brackets for later fights throughout the year. Show us what you can do."

Both Draco and the second year boy named Ted took that as permission to begin. Draco bowed low as he had been taught to do when dueling someone of equal rank and blood status. He heard laughter around him.

"What a first year move," he heard one of the older boys comment from the sideline. Draco felt his cheeks grow rosy as his opponent curtly nodded his head in his direction, which was obviously what he had been expected to do.

Draco raised his wand and shouted.

"Expelliarmus!"

Before his spell could reach its mark, the second year boy muttered a shield charm and the Draco's spell crashed into it in a bust of orange sparks.

"Everte Statum," Ted growled.

Draco felt as if a pair of strong hands had picked him up and threw him across the room. He crashed back into the circling crowd, his wand dropping from his hand as he hit the stone floor. Instead of helping him, the onlookers backed up as they chuckled. Draco scrambled for his wand as his opponent advanced on him.

"Immobulus!" Draco shouted, casting the spell just as Ted was about reach him. Draco knew that his freezing charm wasn't the strongest, so he had to move fast. He pushed himself up to his feet and ran to the other side of the circle while Ted was still frozen in mid-step. Just as the charm began to fade, Draco cast another spell.

"Lacarnum Inflamarae!" As soon as the words left Draco's lips, a ball of fire shot from his wand and leapt onto Ted's cloak. The end of the fabric caught on fire just as Ted was able to move again. Shouting, he wildly threw his cloak from his shoulders and turned to extinguish the flames. The crowd around Draco cheered and watched as Ted struggled to get the flames under control.

It wasn't until Ted turned around, wand raised that Draco realized his mistake in stopping to watch the spectacle he had created.

"Incarcerous!" Ted screamed.

Before Draco could raise his wand to repel the charm, he felt his arms and legs bind together as ropes wound around him. Draco struggled against his bonds as Ted sneered and walked in circles around him. When he raised his wand again and shouted _Locomotor Wibbly_ , Draco felt his legs go limp and he fell to the ground for the second time that night. As he hit the cold floor, his wand fell from his fingers and rolled away. This time he could not grab it before his opponent approached him.

When Ted approached, he kicked Draco's wand further away. A victorious smile spread across his lips before Draco saw him pull his arm back and bring it forward into his face. From there his world went black.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Draco opened his eyes to see Marcus standing over him, offering him help to get up.

"Come on, Malfoy. Clear the floor for the next duel. You're wasting our time here."

He helped pull Draco to his feet and led him to one of the desks that had been pushed to the side of the room. Draco groaned as he sat down.

"Oh, you'll be fine," Marcus assured him. "I've seen worse, and so will you if you stick with us. I've got to get back to the circle. Stay here until you think you're ready to rejoin us."

Marcus walked away and gave Draco time to assess his injuries. Putting his fingers to his nose, it was obvious that it was broken. Caked blood make it hard for him to breath out of his left nostril. When he crinkled his nose, pain shot from the center of his face and up the left side to his eye. He was betting it was already turning purple. Not only did his face sting, but his tailbone ached from falling so many times on the hard, stone floor.

As he went over his injuries on the sidelines, he saw the crowded circle in front of him lean forward in unison, gasp, and then break out in cheers. It was the loudest he had heard them get since arriving. Curiosity got the better of him and he eased himself up from where he was sitting and stood on tiptoe to see over the mass of heads into the middle of the circle. There stood Theodore and the third year that he was facing. Both had neglected their wands and stood circling each other with their fists held high. The third year came in for a punch, swung twice and missed as Theo crouched just in time. Theodore then went low and swung his fist around into his opponent's side. The third year wrapped his leg around Theo's and sent him toppling to the ground. Before Theodore could get up, the boy swung his leg and kicked him in the ribs. The crowd cheered loudly, encouraging him to do it again. The third year boy got in another two kicks before Theodore was able to grab his foot and pull him to the ground beside him. From there, Theodore was able to get the upper hand. He straddled the boy beneath him and landed blow after blow into the boy's face.

"Give. Give!" The boy repeated over and over. It seemed for a second that Theodore wasn't going to stop. Draco wasn't the only one that seemed to think that. Marcus started to move in when Theodore's fists finally stopped moving and he stood. He reached down and helped the third year to his feet before walking away.

When the fight was over, Marcus stood in the center of the crowded room and addressed the students gathered around him.

"Nicely done tonight! It was good to see some new faces this year. It seems like we have a lot to look forward to. As most of you already know, we have to schedule our "club meetings" on the fly depending on space and times available. You will find an invitation to each duel in your dorm room the morning of each one that we hold. There is usually around two to three a semester. Now, please find a partner and cast some healing spells so that nobody wonders why you look like you've been through Hell."

The crowd gave Marcus a round of applause for organizing the night's event and students started pairing off to help heal their friends before heading through the dungeons and back to the dormitories.

Theodore approached Draco with a busted lip and a smile.

" _That_ was awesome."

"I guess. You didn't suck though…"

"Aww come on. You didn't suck. You just weren't as awesome as me," Theodore replied with a smile. His grin split his lip more and he winced.

"Stop talking and let me fix that." Draco pointed his wand at his friends lip and muttered the healing charm for minor cuts and breaks that Marcus was going around teaching anyone who didn't already know it. Theodore returned the favor and the boys turned to leave. On their way to the door, the third year boy that Theodore had fought stopped them. Draco expected the boy to punch Theo in the face, so he was surprised when he held his hand out to him and introduced himself as Kyle.

"Awesome dueling back there, mate," Kyle said. "I haven't ever met another lower classman that fights as well as you."

"Thanks, Kyle. Kicking your ass was a pleasure," Theodore responded with a smile. Both he and Kyle laughed and shook hands again before Draco and Theodore made their way back to their dorms.

"I thought that guy was coming over to get back at you for messing up his face."

"It's all part of the game, Draco. If they didn't want the shit beat out of them and vice versa they wouldn't participate."

"You would think that they would want to win," Draco protested.

"Well sure. But getting to duel people that give you a challenge is half the fun. It's not always about being the best."

Draco shook his head. He wasn't sure about that. His father had always told him that if he wasn't the best than he wasn't trying hard enough. If he was going to prove himself as a Malfoy and a Slytherin he had to get better at this.

"You think we could practice together until I get the hang of it?" Draco asked Theodore as they approached the wall that secretly held the entrance to their common room.

"Yeah, we could probably do that," he responded, chuckling to himself. "But I'm telling you mate, you don't have to be the best at everything. But then again, you Malfoys never change."


	7. The Worst Best Friend

A week after their first experience with the dueling club, Draco and Theodore sat at the expansive breakfast table aching slighting from their magically hidden wounds. Almost every night since that first meeting, the boys had met in the deserted common room and worked on their dueling skills.

Draco winced as he extended his arm to reach for more pumpkin juice while Theo peered out across the Great Hall from a badly hidden black eye.

Laughter peeled from the Gryffindor table and both boys rolled their eyes.

"Wel,l I think we can officially assume that Potter isn't being expelled," Draco said.

"I tried to tell you _that_ three days ago, mate."

"It's just because he's a damn celebrity." Draco's voice dripped in anger.

It was then that the morning post arrived. Draco looked up hoping (but not hoping) to see his owl flying in. He would love to hear from his mother but knew that any correspondence sent would be accompanied by questions from his father asking about how things were going with Potter.

Draco barely noticed when Theo's barn owl landed heavily between them. All of his attention was trained on the six large screech owls carrying a long, thin package that looked unmistakably like a broomstick.

Draco seethed when the owls delivered the package to the Gryffindor table and even more so when it dropped directly in front of Potter.

"First years aren't allowed their own broomstick," Draco seethed. "unless…"

Draco turned to Theodore with a look of pure rage. That rage only intensified when he realized his best friend wasn't paying attention at all. Theo was lost in his letter from home and hadn't noticed the commotion that Patter's parcel had caused all throughout the Great Hall.

Draco elbowed Theo in the side to get his attention. He obviously hit a bruised rib from the night before because Theo winced and drew in his breath sharply.

"Bloody Hell, Draco!"

"Potter—he—"

Theo just shook his head, grabbed his school satchel, and stood.

"I'll see you in class."

…

"Draco was late for History of Magic since he had stayed in the Great Hall to confront Potter and Weasley about the package.

Binns deducted 10 points from Slytherin for Draco's tardy arrival and then continued with his lecture on ancient Egyptian wizards who had served as advisors to several well-known muggle pharaohs.

"Potter's on the quidditch team," Draco growled under his breath to Theodore as he took his place at their table.

Theo rolled his eyes and continued taking notes. It was as though Draco hadn't even spoken.

"Father expected me to have Saint Potter expelled by now, and instead he's on the fucking quidditch team." Draco huffed sigh. "Can't wait till father hears about this."

Theo continued to scratch away at his scroll.

"Are you even hearing this? The bloody quidditch team. A first year!"

Theodore's fist visibly flexed around his quill and for a split second Draco imagined it splintering into shards.

"Shut the fuck up about bloody Harry Potter."

Despite the fact that he wasn't necessarily yelling, Theo's voice echoed around the large domed room. Binns' voice halted and all eyes fell on Theodore. The room sat in a stunned silence. It wasn't very often that Binns' lectures were interrupted.

"Nott! Fifty points from Slytherin! If you cannot respect those trying to learn, I would ask that you leave."

Binns' translucent eyes widened as Theodore did just that. He grabbed his school satchel, threw one last scathing look at Draco and stormed out of the room.

…..

Theo did not show up for their next class. When Severus Snape asked Draco and Blaise where their third group partner was, Draco just shrugged.

"I think he fell ill, Professor," Blaise said.

"Hmm," Snape mused. "I was under the impression he stormed from his last class after losing our house a significant amount of points. I'm glad to hear he's _just_ under the weather."

Snape gave Draco a knowing look before moving on, clearly not happy with being lied to by two of this star pupils.

Draco and Blaise sat in silence as they worked together. Draco mulled over the events of last class as he minced the giant slugs to add to the mixture. This wasn't the first time he was on the receiving end of Theo's anger. While usually very level-headed and cool-natured compared to his best friend, Theo did have a temper to rival Mr. Nott's when he had a good reason.

However, Draco could see no reason for Theo's outburst today. Draco was the one who had the right to be furious. His father was going to be impossible when he found out that Potter had been _rewarded_ for his infraction. On top of that, Draco was now going to have to watch everyone's favorite _hero_ zoom around on the best broomstick on the market every time Slyterin played Gryffindor.

"Hey Draco!" Zambini's voice pulled Draco from his thoughts. "The instructions say to mince the slugs, not to mutilate them."

Draco looked down and realized that amidst the slugs he had managed to mince successfully there were quite a few that were smashed beyond recognition. He was going to have to ask Snape for extras and that was not going to make his professor happy in the slightest.

"Shit," he muttered.

It seemed as though Snape was already aware of the slimy mess that Draco had made because he was walking towards the table with a jar of freshly petrified slugs.

"Let's try not to mutilate these ones, Mr. Malfoy," he said as he plopped three additional slugs on the boy's table. Their fat, slimy bodies smacked the wooden surface with a splat.

"Yes, sir," Draco replied, reaching for one of the new slugs and his knife. He began mincing with renewed concentration which received a laugh from Blaise.

"Did Nott's outburst shake you up that much?" Blaise teased. "I thought you were made out of tougher stuff than that."

"He didn't shake me up," Draco growled. "I just don't see what the fuck his problem was."

"It was probably the letter he got this morning," Blaise explained as though it was common knowledge. "He was fine until the post came. Of course that's becoming more and more common."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Draco tried to sound annoyed while he thought back to breakfast that morning. Post had come and then—Potter. He didn't seem to remember anything else.

"Well, he's been getting more and more letters from home, and he always seems like he's in a bad mood after he reads them. Remember after the first week of classes, when Theo stormed off after his owl arrived—oh wait, no you were more interested in your sweets."

Draco thought back. That must have been the day that his mother had sent the No-Melt Ice Cream. It was also the day that his father's infamous letter had arrived. No wonder he didn't remember.

"Of course he played it off well. He was fine in Potions later, but he looked livid reading his letter that morning. Then there was the one about a week ago. He looked worried all through breakfast but managed to play it off ok. Don't you remember—Oh no, wait you were hitting on Parkinson all through breakfast that morning."

Draco could remember lots of mornings _talking_ to Pansy, but he didn't remember one where Theodore looked worried. Of course there was that night a few days after their dueling club meeting where Theodore had annihilated him during their secret practice session. It was almost as if he had taken it easy on Draco all the other times they had dueled since. Almost as if that fight had been fueled by something else—worry? Anger?

Draco felt guilt well up in the pit of his stomach. Had he been that wrapped up in his life that he hadn't noticed something wrong in his best friend's? It angered Draco that Blaise had noticed something was wrong with Theodore before he did, someone who had known him his entire life.

"Oh course, you've been preoccupied," Blaise broke into Draco's thoughts.

Draco opened his mouth to protest, but could think of no retort. He _had_ been preoccupied, Draco thought. But now that excuse just sounded lame.

As soon as potions was over, Draco cleaned his station quickly and made his way to the dorms where he hoped Theo would be. As the stone wall gave way to the entrance of the common room, Draco was pleased to see his friend lounging on one of emerald green sofas with his nose in a book.

"There's an invite for dueling club laying on your bed. You should grab it before anyone else gets back and sees it," Theo said without looking up.

Draco hesitated for a moment in the door way. He had so much to say to his best friend, but keeping the secret of what they were up to from those who weren't invited was important. Especially if he didn't want to be brutally murdered by Marcus Flint. Figuring it would take all of a second to grab the invite from his room, Draco hurried upstairs. Surprised, Draco found a miniature mahogany broomstick, no bigger than his ring finger, sitting on his pillow. He picked it up slowly and turned it over in his hand. Carved into the wood in very fine script was a single word.

 _Tonight_

As if the wand knew that Draco had received the message, the words disappeared and the broomstick became translucent and floated in the air. He could still tell it was there, but only just. Draco reached out a gentle hand to test if it was still a solid object, but before he could, it zoomed out of his room towards the sixth year dormitory, no doubt returning to Flint after doing its job.

Although the message was short, Draco could guess that the time and place of the dueling club would be the same. As it was only early evening now, Draco had plenty of time to talk to Theo before they needed to leave for their secret meeting. However, when Draco returned to the common room, Theodore was nowhere to be found. Draco checked the giant grandfather clock in the corner and saw that the large hand was resting on the symbol for dinner. He would just have to talk to him there.

…

Draco walked to dinner rehearsing what he would say to Theo. His explanation bounced back and forth from things that were entirely too selfish ("I'm too preoccupied right now to have to worry about your bad temper") to things he was far too uncomfortable to admit freely ("I'm an arse and a terrible friend"). He figured that there might be raised voices involved in their conversation however it went, and he was hopping that they didn't need to stay in the Great Hall to have it.

Much to Draco's surprise, dinner was extremely uneventful. The sole reason being that Theo was nowhere to be found. He scanned the Slytherin table from one end to the other several times before he finally realized that Theo was simply not at dinner. When he took a seat between Blaise and Pansy and asked if they had seen him, they both shrugged and shoot their heads.

"I don't know, but did you _see_ Professor Binns' face when Theo yelled today? I thought he was going to drop dead from being interrupted, but then I remembered he already is." Laughter peeled out around the table and Pansy smiled in appreciation. "It's so good of you to want to find him and console him, Draco. You're such a great friend."

Draco gaped at her words and tried to find a hint of sarcasm in them, but as far as he could tell she was serious. The light touch of her hand on his leg, higher than the last time it has been there, and her shift to be closer to him made it obvious that she was completely ignoring that Theo's outburst had been caused by none other than Draco himself.

Draco glanced over at Blaise who was chuckling quietly and shaking his head. Draco opened his mouth to speak, but Blaise interrupted him under his breath.

"She's got it hard for you, mate. The way she talks it's like you _weren't_ being a giant prat."

Draco's face turned red at this statement and even redder when he felt Pansy's hand inch higher. Why were choices so damn hard? He wanted to rip Blaise a new one. He wanted to stay here with Pansy and see just where her hand ended up by the end of dinner. But he knew he could do neither.

Turning away from Blaise, he put his hands on Pany's stopping her assent.

"I have to go find Theo. I'm sorry." Draco squeezed Pansy's hand gently before getting to his feet and grabbing his things.

Pansy's face fell slightly before her smile returned, eyes meeting Draco's with adoration.

"What a great friend," Draco heard her coo to her friends as he turned away and walked away from dinner.

…

By 11 o'clock Draco had still not found Theo. He had checked the library, the owlery, and some of the grounds. He had even returned to the common room to see if Theodore had just stepped out. It was empty except for the jar of floo power sitting by the fire that hadn't been there when Draco had left for dinner.

At that point, Draco was losing the drive to keep looking. He had to be in dungeon 518 in a little less than 30 minutes, and he couldn't think of anywhere else that Theo could possibly be.

When he walked into the crowed dungeon ten minutes later and immediately saw Theodore talking to some upper classmen, anger boiled just under the surface.

He had just spent all evening looking for Theo and there he was chatting with a smile on his face like nothing was wrong. As he approached the two boys though, Draco could tell that the smile was a façade. He had seen it many times, especially after a tough day with his father. The smile was there, but Theo's true emotions shone through the cracks.

Theodore glanced over at Draco from the middle of his conversation with a cold look, but before either boy could approach each other, Flint had called for the attention of the room.

"Thank you for coming to our first official duel," he started. "I hope you enjoyed your little messenger booms. They were charmed by our very own Marcus Belby."

Marcus pointed to a boy who surprisingly wore the blue lined robes of Ravenclaw. He stepped forward with a smile and a nod of his head. It was then that Draco looked around the room and realized that there were more than just Slytherin students in attendance. There were a smattering of blue Revenclaw robes, a few yellow Hufflepuffs, and maybe one or two Gryfinndors. It surprised Draco that the club wasn't exclusively Slytherin, although the majority of the students _were_ from his house. A detail he failed to notice last time, probably because of how overwhelming the whole experience had been.

"Those broomsticks will return to your dorms each time we have a meeting scheduled for the day. You don't get a lot of notice, but we expect you to be here if you have committed to it," Flint explained. "Last meeting we placed you in the brackets. Starting with this duel, things get serious. You will have one dueling partner per meeting and your performance will determine if you either move up in the brackets or are transferred to the loser's bracket. Peter Murton is charge of all bets. After each fight the winnings are divided up between the winning duelist and those that bet on him—"

Someone cleared their throat in the audience and Marcus smiled at the blonde girl that the sound came from.

"or _her_ ," he corrected. "The standings at the end of the night will determine the fight order for the next meeting. Questions?"

Apparently there were none because the room was unnaturally quiet.

"Alright. Let the dueling begin."

….

Before Draco had a chance to approach Theo, they were divided up into their dueling pairs. Draco was paired with a second year Ravenclaw boy named Robert Hilliard and Theo with a Roy Accrington, a third year Slytherin.

Dueling started quickly after that, and Draco and Hilliard were the third pair to go. As Draco pulled out his wand and bowed slightly to the thin boy across from him, he felt a confidence that had eluded him at the last meeting.

Before Robert could utter even a syllable, Draco had cast his first spell, sending the boy to the ground with a quick _flipendo._ The crowd cheered instantly, and Draco's confidence was bolstered. That seemed to be all he needed as he walked towards his target preparing to finish the fight in record time.

Before Draco could get halfway across the open circle in which they were dueling, Hilliard was shouting his first spell of the night.

""Impedimenta," Robert bellowed from the ground.

Draco cursed as his movement slowed considerable as if we were walking though the slug entrails he had cleaned from his potions table earlier that day.

"Oppugno!" Draco shouted in response. Pointing his wand at various objects within the room and sending them soaring at his opponent.

Hilliard was able to block most of the projectiles, minus a few empty potion bottles that had been left in the room back when it was a functioning classroom. Glass exploded around him, and the audience stepped back.

The fight continued like this for several minutes until Draco was able to get a _relashio_ jinx through, and Robert was unable to block. The boy's wand fell from his hand as though smacked away and was then thrown over the heads of the crowd and against the wall at the far end of the room.

Robert's eyes grew large and for a moment he looked like a cornered mouse, looking this way and that for a route of escape. Draco advanced on him, fist raised for the finishing blow when his opponent squeaked his surrender.

"I yield! I yield!" Robert's pleas were rather comical sounding after he had put up such a duel. Draco hadn't even touched him. The crowd around him seemed to snigger in unison at his cowardice.

"I thought Malfoy was the pussy," someone from the crowd commented.

"Things have obviously changed this week," Flint replied to the onlooker as he made his way into the circle. "Nice job, Draco. That was some improvement."

"Thanks," Draco said, slightly out of breath from the excitement of the fight. He silently thanked his nightly practice sessions with Theo as he felt Flint clap him on the back and told him to report his winnings to the sixth year Slyertin who kept track of the brackets.

Draco walked to the back corner of the room where he was to report. Many students stood around making bets or paying the older students for contraband fire whiskey and other prohibited substances.

"Nice job, Malfoy!" Terence Higgs, the seeker of the Slyterin Quidditch team stood amongst a group of upperclassman in the corner of the room passing around a flask and laughing. The older boy handed the flask to Malfoy as though it were completely natural to be handing a first year student alcohol and associating with him as an equal. "You showed that Ravenclaw twat what Slytherin is all about."

Draco lifted the flask to his lips and smelled the strong, pungent odor of fire whiskey. He had only drank it once before when he and Theo had snuck some out of his father's liquor cabinet. Both boys had been punished harshly for their theft.

He saw the boys watching him expectantly and swallowed, choked the liquid down, and then coughed harshly. Higgs patted him on the back, and the group of upperclassmen broke out into laughter again.

"We're proud of you kid. I don't know why Marcus is convinced we need to include the other houses in our little _club_. I keep telling him we don't need to dilute it with dirty blood, but he's in charge."

Draco ventured another sip of the fire whiskey as Higgs spoke. This time it went down easier, although not without the sting of the first drink.

"Well I'm happy to keep beating them down every time," Draco replied with a smile. "Theo and I have been practicing a lot. I think its helping."

"Hell yeah it is," one of the other boys said, reaching out to take the flask from Draco. "I thought you were going to be an embarrassment after the last meeting, but damn, that was some good dueling."

Draco felt his ears redden at the mention of his first duel, but before he could defend himself, Higgs broke in.

"Speaking of your friend, Theo seems to be doing a hell of job over there in the dueling ring."

Draco looked back towards the center of the room but couldn't see a thing over the crowd of cheering people. The cheers grew to the loudest they had been all night. Higgs and his friends, tall enough to see over the sea of others, pushed their way closer to the duel, their attention pulled away, even momentarily from their whiskey.

Draco shoved slowly through the bodies, but before he could get to the inner circle, the atmosphere of the room changed. Cheers turned to shouts. Shouts turned to worry and panic. Draco's heart pounded for reasons he didn't understand as he pushed faster through the crowd. When he finally emerged into the clearing, Flint was rushing the duelists and a dark haired Ravenclaw girl was shouting, near tears.

"Merlin's bear, he's going to kill him!"

Draco saw Theo's fist then, moving up and down with the speed and intensity of a jack hammer. If his opponent hadn't conceded, he clearly couldn't anymore. The third year was lying motionless on the ground, his face almost unrecognizable with the amount of blood and bruising.

Flint struggled to lace his arms through Theo's and pull them back to stop the assault. When he did finally manage, Theodore rounded on Flint, landing a blow to his jaw.

Seconds after Theo's fist made connection with Flint's face, a spell was cast. Although Draco could not be sure where the spell came from, it was obvious that it hit its mark. Theodore collapsed on the spot, his legs giving out from beneath him. He lay panting on the ground, as though he had run a mile. His head hung in defeat as he propped himself up on his elbow.

"What the fuck was that," Flint swore. "You stop when they give, Nott."

Theo raised his head and made as if to respond, but he was cut off sharply by Flint.

"Leave. Now. _You_ will take the loss this week, and if this shit happens again you are out. Got it?"

Theodore nodded in understanding and got gingerly to his feet as though testing his own legs. Once he was standing, his eyes darted over to Draco. The look of anger that Draco had seen there earlier in the day was replaced by one of weariness and defeat.

When he turned to go, Draco followed.


	8. A Long Kept Secret

Draco made to follow Theo out of dungeon 518 as quickly as he could after his friend's abrupt departure. He had to catch him before he disappeared to Merlin knows where once again. From the tortured expression on Theo's face when Marcus has stopped the duel, something more than being annoyed with Draco was going on—and he would bet ten galleons that it had to do with the letter that Blaise mentioned earlier that day.

"Theo!" He shouted, letting the door shut behind him and jogging down the hall to catch up with the fleeing boy. "Stop. We need to talk about what happened in there—"

"Don't" Theodore interrupted. "You have no right to act interested now. You're too busy trying to please dear old daddy to let my life concern you."

Mention of pleasing Lucius lit a fire in Draco's already frazzled nerves. Not _once_ could he remember his father looking at him with a smile on his lips and pride in his eyes. If getting Potter expelled could grant him that approval from his father, he would do anything to accomplish it. He found himself angry and advancing on Theo in the middle of the abandoned hallway.

"You know damn well what it's like to have to worry about what your father wants of you," Draco said with a snarl, encroaching on Theodore. "What is wrong with wanting to make my father proud?"

"What's wrong with it? Everything!" Theo's shout echoed down the cold stone walls around them. "Everything is wrong with that when your father is an evil git. How do you not see that?"

"My father—"

" _Our_ fathers are horrible fucking people."

"Sod off, Theo. My father is a great man," Draco roared.

"Yeah and my Aunt Martha is a bloody veela." Theo rolled his eyes. "Here we are again, Draco. So much is going on that you have no fucking clue about and you are wrapped up in your own god damn problems."

Theo started to walk away then, clearly fed up with Draco's conceited nature. He didn't get far when Draco was approaching him once again with accusations on his tongue.

"Then bloody tell me what's wrong instead of acting like a first year girl about it, Theo. I don't understand why you have to be so secretive about what is going on. You tell me nothing and expect me to read your mind. How was I supposed to know about some sodding letter unless you _tell me?"_

At Draco's mention of the letter, Theo stopped in this tracks.

"Talk to me, Theo. I'll listen. Who was the letter from?"

"Not here," Theo hissed, as if the mention of a mundane letter where top-secret, ministry-official business.

"I think a deserted hallway five floors down is a _great_ place to have a conversation that can't be overheard," Draco said, clearly tired of chasing Theo all over the castle.

Theo didn't respond to his friend's insult, instead he looked around frantically and noticed an archway leading off into another dark hallway. He motioned for Draco to follow him. The passage was clearly underused. The walls were damp with condensation, and the floors slopped downwards towards unknown levels of the castle.

Draco cursed his friend as they walked deeper into the dungeons without explanation and was almost ready to turn around and call it quits when Theo found a closed door that must have felt right. He muttered a quick _Alohomora_ and the door clicked open. Once inside, Draco stood arms crossed over his chest waiting for his friend to speak.

But no words came. Theo's face crumpled and for a moment Draco through that he was going to cry. His breath came in short rasps, as though he were fighting on oncoming panic attack and his fingers tangled into his dark hair. Draco couldn't help but feel worried at this point. Theo looked like an animal pacing in a cage from which there was no escape.

"Damn it, Theo," Draco half-shouted in a mixture of anger and fear. "What the bloody hell is going on?"

Approaching the panic-stricken boy in front of him, Draco placed his hands on Theo's shoulders to shop the pacing. It became obvious that is was the wrong move when Theo's muscles tightened on contact and he tore away, punching the wall. Bits of stone chipped away at the contact.

"GAH! I don't know what to do," Theo said as words started flooding out of him. "I don't know how to help her. I shouldn't have left. I knew something like this would happen."

 _Her._ There was only one _her_ that the boys shared, and Draco's heart leapt as his thoughts turned to Harper who had always been like a sister to him.

"Slow down. What happened?"

"It's Harper," Theo said in barely a croak, confirming Draco's suspicions. "I think I need to go home."

"Hold on a second," Draco said. Panic rising in his voice. He wasn't sure if it was the mention of something being wrong with Harper or the thought of his best friend leaving him along in this school. "I don't understand. What's wrong? Why would you need to leave?"

Theo started pacing again. It seemed as his words had disapparated into thin air. He reached deep into the pockets of his robes and pulled out several worn pieces of parchment. As he handed them over to Draco, it was as if a weight had been passed.

"This was written three days after we left," was his only explanation.

Draco's brow furrowed in confusion as he read.

 _Dear Theo,_

 _How is Hogwarts? Every morning when I wake up and you aren't here it feels so strange. I'm counting down the days until you come home for the holidays. Yesterday, father went to the Malfoy's for the day. I almost begged him to take me with him to spend time with Draco, but then I realized that he was gone too._

 _While father was out, I was looking through mother's things and found the hair comb that she used to wear during the holidays. Do you remember it? I always loved the emeralds that sparkled in the afternoon sun._

 _I think I'm going to keep it. She always told me that someday it would be mine. I don't think he will notice since he doesn't go into her room anymore._

 _Love,_

 _Harper_

Draco looked up at Theo as he finished reading the letter. His confusion deepening and then turning to skepticism.

"I'm not sure I get it," Draco finally said. "She seems fine other than missing us. I don't think that's a good reason to leave Hogwarts."

Theo shook his head.

"In the past five years, how often have I talked to you about my mother?"

The question shocked Draco, and he cast his eyes down at the floor as he answered the question.

"Never."

Draco had _never_ heard Theo even mention his mother in _five_ long years.

"And how often has Harper mentioned her?"

"None, but she's your sister! She's going to talk to you about things that she doesn't with me."

"No. We don't talk about her. _No one_ talks about her."

Draco's mouth gaped open then. "But she's your—"

"No. It's just how it is Draco. If _he_ were to know that she was talking about mum…." Theo shook his head. "Harper only brings her up when something is wrong—when she doesn't know where else to turn. Our mother was much like yours—she was the shield against father."

He left his words hanging in the air and handed Draco the next letter.

 _Dear Theo,_

 _Father found the comb. He destroyed it even though I begged him not to. I think one of the house elves told him that I went into her room while he was away. I miss her, and I miss you. Only 352 days till I can leave for Hogwarts with you._

 _Love,_

 _Harper_

Draco stood in silence when he finished the letter. His stomach felt like it had been dropped down an elevator shaft. He never had any siblings of his own, so it was natural that Theo and Harper had become the closest thing he had to a brother and sister. They spent so much time together growing up. To read Harper's words and imagine the anguish behind them left him speechless.

"I got that the same day the letter from your father came. I was angry and worried, but I hoped that my father's wrath would pass quickly as it always does."

"But then you got a letter today," Draco continued for him in a hushed tone.

Without a word, Theo handed over the third and final letter.

Dear, Theo

 _Father said that he_

 _Is going to take me to diagon alley over Halloween. It is_

 _Still my favorite place to go after all these years! I am_

 _So excited. I know you will be_

 _Angry that we are going without you. Father says that_

 _He might even take me for ice cream._

 _Is that not the most exciting thing you have ever heard? Also_

 _Beginning next week, he said that he will start taking me_

 _To the Malfoy's when he goes! Even though Lucius tends to_

 _Frighten me, I think it will be fun. Father is definitely trying to make things up to_

 _Me._

 _I can't wait until you come home!_

 _Don't forget to get me what I told you I_

 _Want for Christmas. I know you want_

 _To make me smile. Christmas break will be the perfect_

 _End to the year. We can ask father if he will take us_

 _Up to the Malfoy's for a big holiday dinner_

 _Like we used to. I would love to see Draco's_

 _Mother again._

 _Please write as soon as you can. It will_

 _Help keep the boredom of being an only child at bay._

 _Love,_

 _Harper_

Draco paused. He turned the paper over and looked at the back. He held the paper close and scrutinized the writing. It didn't make any sense. Harper seemed to have had a complete change of heart. Not only that, but the letter seemed off, nothing like the writing in the ones before.

"Are you sure this is Harper's writing," Draco asked as he examined the paper.

"I'm positive."

"It's just it doesn't resemble any of her other letters."

"When we were little, we had a secret code. Our parents never took the time to figure it out, and we thought it was fun to have conversations that only we could understand," Theo said, taking the parchment back from Draco. He took out a quill and started marking words as he continued. "When you aren't looking for it you don't see it. Especially when you don't read a lot of what Harper writes. It looks like some dumb kid, jumping from subject to subject in excitement. But when you take the first word of each line—"

When Theo handed the letter back, Draco's eyes fell immediately to the circled words and he could swear that his heart stopped.

"Father is still so angry. He is beginning to frighten me." Draco paused before reading the next sentence. "I don't want to end up like mother. Please help."

A stiff silence engulfed the room, as neither boy wanted to be the first to respond to Harper's desperate words. Draco finally broke the silence with a question.

"What does she mean _I don't want to end up like mother_?"

Theo looked quickly at the ground and ran his hand through his hair, a tell that Draco knew all too well.

"Does she mean stuck in a house with your father?"

Theo shook his head and whispered the next words.

"She doesn't want to wind up dead."

Draco mouth fell open, but no sound escaped. He remembered back five years ago. Waiting for his two best friends to arrive for Christmas dinner. Mr. Nott's patronrus arriving just before seven to alert the Malfoys of the tragedy. The Healers at St. Mongo's explaining to the two stricken families the sudden onset of the aneurysm and their assurances that it would have been painless.

"But that had nothing to do with living with your father. The healers said a brain aneurysm can happen to anyone at any time. It has nothing to do with—"

"He killed my mother, Draco." Theo's words came out so calm it was almost as if they were talking about what was being served for breakfast the next day, but Draco could sense the hatred that bubbled up from beneath the words. "It's why we never talk about her."

"But the Healers at Saint Mungo's —"

"Can be paid off. For Merlin's sake, Draco, you act like your family doesn't have a half a dozen secrets that your father didn't pay—or threaten—to have just disappear."

Draco didn't contradict him. He was thinking of his own family's skeletons hidden deep within their closets. Instead he asked the question that he was sure Theo knew was coming but desperately did not want to answer.

"How?"

Theodore sighed, tucked the last letter back into this robes, and found a seat at a long abandoned desk. Draco joined him as he began the story that he had kept hidden for all these years.

….

Theodore lay on his mother's bed tossing a ball up and down as he listened to her hum. She was across the room standing behind Harper doing his sister's hair for the Malfoy's annual holiday dinner. Harper had been begging all week to be allowed to wear their mother's favorite comb in her hair for the occasion.

"Hold still, Harper," his mother laughed. "I don't want to poke you in the head."

Harper's wiggles subsided slightly, but Theo could still see her shimmying with excitement in her seat in front of his mother's oval mirror.

"Mother," Theo groaned. "Is it almost time to go? Draco said he got a new training broom for Christmas, and I want to try it out before it gets too dark."

"Yes, Theodore," she said just as she was finishing up with Harper's hair. "Even if we get completely ready to go, we will have to wait until your father gets done speaking with his co-workers before we can leave."

His mother's light voice seemed quieter as she said these last words. Theo knew it was because she was lying. His father wasn't speaking with _co-workers_. He was speaking with the ministry aurors who had sent an owl earlier in the week. They suspected him of having some artifact from the war that would link him to the Dark Lord. The letter that Theo had snuck a look at before sealing it up again, listed today as the day they would call. They were downstairs with his father now.

Theo did not doubt his father owned such an artifact. He also did not doubt that his father had the artifact conveniently destroyed. Or perhaps Borgin was holding it for him and that was the purpose of this week's impromptu family visit to Diagon Alley.

No matter the circumstances, it all felt far away laying in his mother's bed with the two most important people to him safely gathered there. His mother was the refuge he and Harper needed, and he loved her dearly for that.

It wasn't much later that all three of them turned their attention to the bedroom door. Mr. Nott was ascending the staircase and yelling for their mother.

"It must be time to go!" Harper squealed. "Do you think that Draco will like my comb?"

Harper's excitement was not mirrored by their mother. Worry laced the lines around her eyes as she turned quickly to her children.

"I'm sure Draco will love the comb, dear. I'm going to go see if your father is ready to leave and then I'll come and get you. Stay here for a moment, alright?"

Harper nodded happily, running back to the mirror to adjust the comb that was already perfectly situated in her hair. Theo on the other hand, sensing that something was off, sat with his ear to the door listening to his parents' conversation in the hallway.

"Did the ministry finally leave, dear," his mother asked innocently.

"You're damn right they did. I told them that they couldn't search the house on a holiday. Not that they would find anything if they did. You'd like that, though, wouldn't you?"

"I'm not sure I know what you—"

"Someone tipped them off, Ella. Someone who knew exactly what I keep hidden away in this house. There aren't many people have that kind of information."

Theo shifted uncomfortably in his seated position on the floor. He kept his concentration on his parents' conversation as he felt Harper snuggle up next to him, trying to listen as well.

"What are you saying, Henry," their mother said, responding to the implied accusation.

"I'm saying that you better keep your cunt mouth closed."

Harper flinched in Theo's lap as though she had been slapped with their father's last words to their mother. She looked up at her big brother with worry.

"Theo," she whispered in his ear, but he hushed her immediately as his mother continued.

"You know I wouldn't," Theo's mother pleaded. "There are plenty of people that parade in and out of this house on a weekly basis who know far more than you want to admit."

There was an echoing smack and a hard thud. Theodore's fingers dug into the carpet where he sat. He felt Harper bury her face in his neck, a whimper escaping her throat. Both children knew to stay put as the argument outside the room escalated. They had dealt with this enough to know that interfering would make this worse for everyone.

"Too much has been leaked recently for it to be a coincidence!" Theo's father screamed. "Do you know what would happen to you if they sent me to Azkaban? Do you? You would be an accomplice to everything. Your children would be split up and put in orphanages to be taken in by mudbloods and traitors. Is that what you want? Is it?"

"I swear I didn't— Henry put the wand down please. Henry!"

The sound of a struggle followed, and it was then that Theodore and Harper heard the scream, the crash, and the thud that signaled the end of their mother's life.

…..

Draco sat in stunned silence as Theo finished his story.

"We stayed in my mother's room until the healers arrived. Father claimed that she collapsed and tumbled from the top of the stairs after she had already gone unconscious. I'm sure Galleons were exchanged and threats made. Plus he knows people on the hospital board."

Suddenly it all sank in for Draco. Harper was in danger of facing the same fate as her mother. Theo had carried the weight of that secret all day. And Draco had acted like a complete tosser, worried only about gaining the approval of his own father. A death eater just like Theo's. Draco thought of his own mother and the heated arguments between her and his father. One's that had-like Theo—left him hiding in his room, praying to anyone that would listen that they would end quickly and without _too much_ violence.

With all this in mind, his voice was full of conviction when he broke the silence.

"How do we help Harper," Draco asked.

Theo stared at Draco with wide eyes.

"You believe me?"

"Of course I fucking believe you." Draco was slightly offended by Theo's surprise. "So what are we going to do?"

"I don't know," Theo lamented. "I've been working through scenarios in my mind all day. She has no one to act as a buffer between her and my father since I left. First she had our mother, then she had me, now there is no one."

Draco couldn't imagine. He had always had his mother. She was the calm that followed the storm of his father. When he had ached to feel the love of his father, she was always there to make up for the feelings of rejection he felt. If she were suddenly gone—Draco shook his head. He couldn't even let himself think about that. His mother was the one who always made him feel safe in a world of death eaters and their allies.

His mother—that was it. His mother. He turned to Theo, almost bursting with excitement at his epiphany.

"That's it! Harper needs someone to look after her, to be her buffer. What about _my_ mother?"

"What do you mean?"

"We could ask my mother to look after her, maybe even invite her to stay at the manor for a week or two at time."

"I don't know," Theo said hesitantly. "If we told your mum and she said something— Plus it might make my father suspicious."

"We don't have to tell her anything. I can send an owl and just mention that you think Harper's having a hard time adjusting without you home. My mother has already written me loads of times to tell me how much she misses having me around. All we have to do is suggest Harper come spend time at the manor to help keep her company. Do you think your father would agree to an extended visit?"

A weight seemed to be lifted off of Theo's shoulders as he stood from his seat and paced the room once again. This time with a sense of hope in his step.

"As long as he doesn't know the real reason behind it, I'm sure he would love to get Harper out of the house," he said, the excitement in his voice growing with each word. "We can tell your mom to say it was her idea so as not to embarrass Harper."

Both boys were smiling by this point, and the plan seemed to be falling into place. With the urgency of Harper's letter, they knew that now was the time to act, so they raced to the Slytherin common room to pen their letter to Mrs. Malfoy.

When they arrived, the common room was deserted. The Slytherin students who participated in the dueling club were still gone and would be late into the night. Those who hadn't merited an invite were already fast asleep. Draco snuck quietly up to his four-poster and slid his school things from underneath, grabbing his quill and a roll of parchment. When he returned to the common room, Theo was sitting cross-legged on the oversized couch in front of the fire.

"Alright, where do we begin," Draco asked, sitting next to Theo, quill in hand. Both boys leaned in over the parchment, and Draco began to write.


End file.
